Tales of the Elmnigh

Tales of the Elmnigh: Prologue

The land was calm on that day, calm and boring... Set easy by the mourning stone, created earlier that day. Said stone the slain the great being. Or how Blight called him "Big Ego". As Blight waited for the others. He'd cast his blade upon a mossy stone by the side of the ongoing river. The river where they left him, "We'll be back in an hour. Tops, don't worry buddy. Just play cards while we're gone. And please please please, watch Merry just this once." Blight mocked out-loud as he walked the edges of the river back and forth, swinging the remains of a branch around as it withered in his palm. Time went by, nothing. Blight looked right, then left, up down right, double right. And even the mythical nowhere. And still nothing at all? He pondered upon the idea that his comrades were in desperate need for his assistance. So instead, Blight did the best thing he could in this dreadful situation....strolling over to the mossy stone, he'd press his body against the rock, and fall into his own desperate slumber. "What I don't know can't hurt me." Blight thought to himself over and over, as if it were some sort of righteous justice for his discard for his so called "friends". What seemed like a whole Gnot's life span, Blight finally dozed into the depths of his mind...
But...not for long! As it seemed nature had rather malesous plans in store for dear ol' Blight. A shadow from behind him as he rubbed the lids of his eyeballs. It was as if time had stopped. The birds, the trees, the sounds we silent completely. As if the shadow had to do with all this hocus pocus.Before even waking up, a sound was crafted. A sound from the bowls of the person who creates thy shadow. The person watching young Blight. Then out no where, the shadow simulated a raspy yet deep and dark toned vocal. Blight's exhaustion sent him into that state of outright confusion that could ruin how a person thinks, acts, and dwells. So when hearing this voice, and analyzing the things around him, Blight wasn't 100% sure if he wanted to listen to any or this or not.
The man coughed...The cough echoed, entering Blight's ears bouncing off to his mind, which jerked him awake. "Wha..?!? WHA" Blight stared at the stream, as the shadow cascaded around his body. Out of fear, Blight decided not to look behind him..the shadow grew in size as the time ticked down. And the man's coughs began to grow louder and louder until he finally said actual words. These masterful words make wake into Blight's stubborn skull, they ran in through his mind, making his eyes widen, and his body shiver and shake. Breaking in a cold sweat as Blight heard those words...those cursed words. As the river ran dry, and Blight slowly turned towards the old man...his words echoed through the creek, words that Blight struggled in fighting such temptations. Blight stared at his face..It was black, nothing on it, no eyes, nose,eyebrows, but a mouth and reading glasses. The man was a dapper shadow, "A lesser demon" Blight thought as he lifted his hand, heading towards his blade next to him on the rock. Old man demon pants snickered at the sight of the desperate man plunge for his weapon of choice. He lifted up his hand as well, but didn't go for any blade of his own...He blasted pure unconditioned dark magic into Blight's side, shooting him off the rock and into the creek.
Blight's face ran red...as he hit his head on the side of a rock, falling down. He felt numb and confused. "Who was this man? What's his business, how does he even know me?" Were the constant questions flying through his mind. Old man demon pants, took a stroll towards Blight's bleeding body. Blight got a better look at his destined for. Demon pants wore a trench coat in the middle of summer, with a goat head cane that supported his movement. He seemed to have a limp almost unnoticeable. The lens of his glasses changed in constant color, and he wore extremely short pants for someone in his attire. Demon pants was an oddball. Blight stared at him, pulling out his hunting knife as his last form of protection. As for Blight, he just wore his beaten up poncho, while most of his clothes and armor were taken by his friends to get polished and cleaned. Blight kept his eyes pressed on the man. Waiting for any form of uncultured movement. But Demon pants instead waved his hand in front of Blight's head wound. The cut from the rock reverted back to just untampered skin. The blood wisped away into Demon pant's fingers. By now, his shadow surrounded the forest. His shadow made a bright summer day look like a misty dark night. Demon pants finally opened his mouth so that a fresh set of words would unremarkably come straight out. "So did you hear me correctly or do I have to repeat myself young lad." Demon pants exclaimed as he let out his shadow hand for a gentlemen's shake. But Blight was in complete awe "I said...I know who you are Blight. And I also know the steps to get you back to earth. Henry Oma at your service." Blight closed his gaping mouth, before drool slobbered down. He'd take his hand almost making Henry fall into the dried up river as well. "Yes yes! Please a thousand times yes! That's all I've ever wanted for christ sakes!" And like that, the deal was made....